I escaped from prison. It was good. Better than dying at the stake. I got another scar. We rained destruction down upon the weak guards and burned the warden’s tower. My companions are strange. Most talk to much, especially the witch man. The half dead woman seems to be a warrior of action, though. She doesn’t talk too much either.
I met a man who calls himself Thorn and claims to speak for one of the field folk’s gods. He says he will give me my revenge. He says he will send us to war. I want to kill the field folk, and burn their cities, so I agreed. I have added his god to my companions. He tested me and the others. We passed. He says he wants us to go north, give weapons to the savage bugbears, then destroy a keep on the watch wall. This I can do.
Ships. I dislike the open water, and I dislike ships. I really dislike ships captained by filthy northmen who think themselves above me. I should have killed the northman where he stood the moment I saw him. But I have sworn an oath, and the oath says I must abide by this Thorn’s wishes. I will for now. Thorn says we are to kill the greedy pig of a captain once he’s delivered us to our destination. This is the only thing keeping me from going crazy on this floating deathtrap. I count the days until I may drive my blade through the northman’s throat.
By the old gods of the Iraen, and by the one who calls himself the Prince of Devils, Asmodeus, I commit these words as record of my deeds.